Will and Deni McIntyre spent the first 25 years of their photographic lives shooting magazine stories and subjects for books in 70 countries. When international travel was curtailed after 9/11, they segued into movie work and long-form storytelling. In 2000, a friend in the equestrian community moved to Wyoming to become head wrangler at the A Bar A Guest Ranch. “We went out as guests to the A Bar A,” Deni says, “and fell in love with the rugged landscape and glinting light. That and the ranch folk we met drew us back over the next few years to give photographic workshops and create a website for the ranch.”

A few years ago I was reorganizing a closet and discovered cardboard boxes tucked into a dark corner. Much to my surprise, I found dress boxes and shoeboxes filled with photographs from the 1940s and early ’50s. I had forgotten that when my father died I inherited his personal photographs. That afternoon and long into the night, I sat on the hallway floor looking at the pictures and reliving some of those moments. It was like discovering buried treasure, a forgotten family heirloom.

As a busy and successful wedding photographer, opportunities to make inspirational photographs outside of that genre were somewhat limited. Having recently attended a professional workshop, the WPPI Road Tour in Boston during the summer of 2011, I learned from presenter Dawn Shields about the personal project she embarked on that led to her winning the prestigious WPPI 2010 Album of the Year Award. I was inspired; I saw the need to keep the love and passion of all photography alive within me by finding a personal project of my own.

Every so often I find myself running out of gas and feeling the accumulated effects of days of traveling, photographing, teaching, editing, and writing. While it isn’t always easy to self-diagnose being overworked, it is easy to see the productivity and creativity of one’s photography decreasing. It is at these times I find I need to take some time away from “work” and head into the mountains to help recharge my personal batteries and get the creative juices flowing again.

There are stories we tell to explain ourselves, to clarify who we are, and to account for why we are who we are. And no matter what the apparent subject of these stories, what they are always really about is the past. “The past is never dead,” William Faulkner said. “It’s not even past.”

You have invested in camera equipment. You have sharpened your photographic skills. You even have a gallery of your photos online. Now what? The next step for many photographers is a public exhibition of their work. It is a way to be seen, to promote and market yourself and your work, and maybe, if you are lucky, even a way to sell a print or two.

Last year, I decided to take on a challenge focusing on the unique natural beauty associated with wildfires in a Florida scrub ecosystem, one of the most rare ecosystems in the state. Florida is no stranger to wildfires. Nationwide, Florida has the second highest number of wildfires annually. In 2011, it was estimated that 300,000 acres of land was burned due to over 4800 wildfires. My project was centered at Indrio Savannahs Preserve, where a 120-acre wildfire was ignited by lightning in March of 2013.

“Our family came to America from Vietnam in the 1960s. When I first came to America, I came with fear. I was unsure of what I was going to find, my family had to be broken up. I had no clue if they had made it to America safely.”—Khanh Duong (Excerpt from Liana Bui’s student photo/oral history project.)

Shooting architecture has always been a complex matter and while the challenges remain the digital medium has helped overcome many hurdles. Challenges such as color balance, lighting consistency, and the need to hide every single light and cord have been lessened. In this article I will describe one challenge that exemplifies how I now use digital to make images that would have been logistical nightmares in the past.

Peter Menzel and Faith D’Aluisio are a photographer and writer couple who explore fascinating and focused subjects. One of their past books featured what 30 families in 24 countries ate during a week; another was about robots and their masters. Each of their books required challenging photography and extensive interviewing.

Their latest achievement, entitled What I Eat: Around the World in 80 Diets, explores the foods and lives of 80 individuals. Photographs show what they ate in a recent day, food lists plus lively texts provide context for their diets and Peter added pictures of daily life. In their travels through more than 30 countries, Peter and Faith covered people shopping, cooking, dining, their recreation, and more in various venues. The couple are organizers extraordinaire.

It all started with a conversation at a family holiday with my aunt and uncle about doing a summer hiking trip in Yosemite to stay at the High Sierra Camps. These camps are supported by daily mule trains that haul in supplies, including delicious meals and luggage, thus allowing visitors to carry a light daypack while getting to enjoy the experience of a backcountry trip.

That picture always held a fascination,” Michael Crouser says of an image he took in Paris in 1986. “It was just after college, and I hadn’t come to the point of understanding what my own aesthetic tastes were, but in that picture there was a hint of things to come…a bit of foreshadowing of the things I would go on to do.”

I probably take more pictures of people working than any other subject. Since I am a commercial photographer this makes a lot of sense. I love taking shots of people actually working; they provide wonderful opportunities to see people involved in something they take seriously. You can often get shots where people really aren’t paying attention to you, just doing what they do. Work shots...

Paul Cary Goldberg has long had a passion for two things: photography and food. A self-taught photographer, Goldberg’s love of food led to an interest in farms and farming as a way of life. Combine all this and you have Goldberg’s latest photo project, which involves documenting the life of the American farmer.

In the late 1980s I took on the challenge of shooting the equestrian culture of the American West. I was passionately interested in photographing the men and women who still follow the traditions of Western horsemanship. They all share an almost mystical love of their equine counterparts and the art of riding. Over a 14-year period I seasonally photographed the Western riders and titled the work the Equestrian West.